


Imagine Better

by violentdarlings



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Family Feels, Fix-It, Haley Lives, Hotchner - Freeform, Season/Series 05, Shameless Smut, also
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:21:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26214763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violentdarlings/pseuds/violentdarlings
Summary: Haley/Hotch fix-it. Because fuck you, Foyet, that's why.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Haley Hotchner
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	Imagine Better

The doctors say she only survived by a whisper, that the bullet through her neck should have killed her outright, let alone the multiple stab wounds, or the time that elapsed while Aaron was beating Foyet to the death with his bare hands. She doesn’t begrudge him that; she would have taken a swing at the bastard if she’d had the chance. It had been one of his team, she doesn’t know which, who had taken a look at her maimed body and realized it was still breathing, albeit faintly.

“You went into cardiac arrest twice on the ride to the hospital,” the ICU doctor had told her crisply, when she’d awoke (induced coma, a week and a half on a ventilator, drifting between life and death). “We operated on you for seven hours. It took over twenty units of blood to stabilize you. Mrs. Hotchner, I don’t think I need to tell you how rare it is to survive such significant trauma.”

She hadn’t been able to reply, then. Hadn’t been able to correct him that actually, her title is Ms. Brooks, that she hasn’t been a married woman for well over a year. Even now, a month after the attempt on her life at the hands of the deranged psychopath obsessed with her husband, she can speak only in a hoarse croak. She’ll have scars on her neck, on her chest, on her stomach for the rest of her life – and those are just the ones Foyet inflicted, never mind the surgical scars. She’s a wreck.

A wreck about to go home to the house she’d been shot in.

She hasn’t seen Jack in all that time. Aaron had appeared at the foot of her ICU bed the day Haley had come out of the induced coma; she’d barely been able to move, let alone to process what had happened. But she remembers the sight of him without even having to close her eyes, and she remembers it perfectly; his suit crisp and clean, his tie knotted neatly at his throat, how his eyes looked at her like he couldn’t see her at all.

The nurse had given her a notepad and a pen. _Jack_ , she’d written in shaky letters, along with a wobbling question mark. Aaron had peered over at it, still managing to maintain three feet of distance – God forbid he have to touch her. “He’s okay,” he’d replied, and Haley narrowed her eyes at him. “He’s coping,” Aaron had amended. “He misses you.”

_Don’t want him to see me like this._

Aaron cleared his throat. “If you keep getting better, they’ll move you to a general ward in a few days. He could visit then –”

Haley had shaken her head in a definitive no, and every time he had asked, she’d continued to do the same.

She sits on the edge of the bed. Waiting doesn’t seem to frustrate her as much as it used to; maybe hospital, or coming within scant inches of death, has improved her patience. There is little to look at in her hospital room; she’s had time to examine all of it. The doctor in charge of her care had cautioned her against leaving hospital so soon; Haley had rasped, “It’s worse being here than being shot,” and the topic had been swiftly closed.

A tiny face peers around the doorway. Haley’s face splits into a smile, and she receives a beaming one back. “Mommy!” Jack shrieks, and hurtles himself into her arms. It hurts, the force of him slamming into her torso; it hurts, lifting him up onto the bed beside her, and Haley loves every moment of it. Her eyes are wet. She loves him so much.

“Baby,” she says, and just holds him, her nose to his soft golden hair, the scent of him, his tight grip, every bit of it soothing something rabid in her that she hadn’t even realized was there. She closes her eyes, just for a minute, and when she opens them again Aaron is standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, looking like nothing as much as he looks like the lanky, awkward teenager who asked her out, all those years ago. Sheepish.

“He was too fast for me,” he says ruefully, and Haley has to force herself to become solemn, in the face of his seriousness.

“He might be too fast for me for a while,” she replies, and kisses Jack on the side of his head. “Come on, honey, you can help Mommy get into the wheelchair.”

Jack looks at the contraption like it’s an incredible adventure rather than yet another limitation on Haley’s life. “I ride too!” he demands, and Haley smiles.

“I don’t know, baby. Is Daddy strong enough to push up both.

Jack looks his father up and down. “Yes,” he says confidently. “Daddy can do anything.”

Now Aaron just looks overwhelmingly guilty. “He sure can,” Haley sighs. There’s just not always good things.

She can get into the car on her own, just barely, but rather than sit in front with Aaron she gets into the back with Jack. “Mommy, you go in the front,” he laughs, and Haley scruffs a hand over his hair fondly.

“Not today,” she says, and makes up games and sings him songs all the way back to the house. Her ears are ringing after the fifth enthusiastic rendition of ‘The Wheels On The Bus’, but her heart is full. How easily could she have missed this? It’s worth it, all the weeks of pain and physiotherapy, how she still can’t sit for long without her whole body aching, the rasp in her voice that gets worse when she’s tired.

And she’s tired. She’s so damn tired.

Aaron tries to help her out of the car. “I’m fine,” Haley grits out, and hauls herself out. Aaron stands back, his hands raised, his face impassive. He used to show so much of himself, when he was her boyfriend, before the FBI sank its hooks into him. Now he could be a stranger.

“At least let me bring your suitcase,” he says quietly. Haley glares at him.

“It’s bad enough they wouldn’t let me go home on my own without you treating me like I’m made of glass, Aaron,” she snaps, and makes her way around to the trunk of the car, yanking it open, pulling out her case. Her hand isn’t strong enough, and the thing falls to the ground. “Damn it,” she mutters, but Aaron is there, shutting the trunk, gathering up her suitcase in his lovely, long-fingered hand.

“Let me,” he murmurs, going after Jack with case in hand, leaving Haley to stare after him, livid at her own weakness, at the situation, at the word.

Livid, that he is still so damn beautiful, and that she loves him still.

The stairs aren’t going to be easy. Aaron has set her up a bed on the sofa, with blankets and pillows, and Haley sinks down onto it gratefully. The house has been cleaned, evidently; there is not a trace of blood, everything smells clean and neutral. Still, he’d been in this room, that monster. She shivers.

The day passes. Haley naps for most of it, in between cuddling her child and listening to him tell her all his stories from the past month that she’d missed. Aaron flits in and out, but she knows he’s not working on anything for the BAU; he’s on leave indefinitely, until Haley’s ‘back on her feet’, whatever that means.

He makes a passable spaghetti bolognaise for dinner, exactly the way she’d taught him to do it when they first moved in together, and Jack gets sauce on his face, his clothes, and most of the table until Aaron gets him under control. It is odd, being back in her own house, but being almost an interloper; clearly Aaron has worked out a routine with Jack, one different to Haley’s own. She almost isn’t needed, except for how grateful Aaron’s expression is when he looks at her, except for how tight Jack hugs her goodnight before Aaron carries him up the stairs to bed.

She’s still sitting on the sofa, deep in thought, when Aaron comes back. “I’m – going to turn in,” he says, one hand rubbing at his hair. He’s aged, Haley thinks, with more than years. “Do you need anything?”

Haley takes pity on him. “I know where everything is, Aaron,” she reminds him. “Sleep well.”

_Not likely,_ his face says clearly for a moment, before he smooths it into unnatural emptiness again. “Yes. Good night, Haley.”

She watches him go, and she wants him back with an ache so fierce it feels like being killed all over again. Haley gets into her sofa-bed, and lies in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, for what feels like forever before she makes her decision. She’s not going to live her unexpected second life in fear.

Haley gets to her feet.

It takes an embarrassingly long time for her to pull herself, painstakingly, one by one, up the stairs. It hurts. She likes that it hurts.

Jack is asleep in his big-boy bed, sprawled out on his tummy, face down. Haley restrains a giggle. He sleeps just like Aaron does, limbs all over the face. Haley smiles and blows him a kiss, before padding silently down the hall, towards the master bedroom. She knows Aaron has been sleeping in here.

She knows better than to slip into bed beside him.

“Aaron,” she calls, and he snuffles a bit but doesn’t wake. She’s familiar with this. She sharpens her tone a bit, and bites out, “Hotchner!”

That does it. Aaron’s eyes snap open, sleepy but aware, and he sits upright, rubbing at his face “Haley?” he asks, voice rough with sleep. “Are you all right?”

Haley crosses her arms over her chest. “Are you seeing anyone?” she demands. Aaron blinks at her.

“What?” Haley rolls her eyes, impatient.

“It’s not a difficult question, Aaron. Are you dating anyone?”

He’s starting to get angry. Aaron might be good at hiding his emotions at work, but Haley has never had any trouble reading him. “Of course not,” he says, heated. “Do you think I’ve had time, in between Jack and everything that’s happened?”

Haley breathes out. She hadn’t realized how relieved she would be. “Good,” she says decisively, and climbs up onto the bed beside him.

Foyet hadn’t come in here. This place, at least, is unchanged.

Aaron is eyeing her like she’s one of his unsubs, like she’s dangerous. Haley smiles. She likes that idea. “What is this?” he asks, voice controlled, but his hand is twitching, just a bit.

“What do you think?” she asks, and leans in, giving him plenty of time to pull away. He doesn’t, and Haley brushes her lips over his, light as a feather. He smells exactly the same, and he is so warm; the shape of him unchanged in his plain T-shirt and boxers.

She pulls away. Aaron’s eyes are bright, like he’s fighting back tears, but surely he can’t be. Surely she isn’t worth his tears. “Why?” he asks, voice cracking, and oh, he is upset, holding back only just by the faintest thread. “Haley, you left –”

“I died,” she tells him harshly, and Aaron flinches. “I should be dead, I shouldn’t have survived, and I am still so mad at you –”

“You should be,” he interjects, one lonely tear falling down his cheek, and Haley cups it in her hand without thinking. God, but he leans into her touch like she’s the last thing good left in this world. “You should hate me.”

“I don’t,” she replies immediately, and Aaron sobs aloud. She knows this feeling, the sheer overwhelming relief of it, how it breaks through his barriers quicker than hurting him ever could. “I don’t, sweetheart, I really don’t.”

He pushes her hand away, covers his eyes. “Don’t call me that,” he chokes out. “Haley, when I saw you like that, and I thought you weren’t breathing, I –” He drags in a deep breath. “I didn’t know what to do with myself, I didn’t want to live anymore, not if you were gone.”

_Aaron_. She is still so angry at him.

She never wants to see him hurt again.

“I’m here,” Haley says, and pushes herself against him, unbalancing them both. Only Aaron’s quick reflexes save them both from tumbling off the bed entirely, but she lands awkwardly in his lap, his broad hands on her waist.

Haley freezes. Aaron freezes. She’s not even sure that either of them are still breathing.

Aaron cracks first. His body seems to fold in the middle, and his arms go around her with dizzying strength; Haley grunts with pain, and immediately Aaron loosens his grip. “Sorry,” he says, or tries to, because Haley is kissing him, covering his pretty mouth with hers, covering all the words he might say, because none of them really matter anyway when they could be doing this.

“Don’t be,” she says, pausing for breath, and wriggles his T-shirt off over his shoulders. God, he’s gotten too thin. And he’s scarred as well, like her.

“Haley.” Aaron is hunching his shoulders, trying to minimize what she can see of his body. She kisses his neck, his shoulder, runs her hands through the dark hair on his chest, rocks herself against him lazily. “Haley,” he says again, his voice rough. She can feel his dick already hard in his boxers. “You’re still not well, we shouldn’t do this.”

Haley pulls back, stares into his eyes, but she refuses to stop touching his chest. She was shot, damn it, _and_ stabbed. It’s her constitutional right to touch Aaron’s chest if she wants. “If you don’t want to, Aaron, just say so,” she says. “Don’t hide behind my injuries.” His eyes darken.

“Does it _feel_ like I don’t want to do this?” he growls, setting his hands on her hips and grinding her down on his erection. Haley grins at him, delighted.

“You never fail to _rise_ to the occasion, SSA Hotchner,” she teases him. She never used to be like this before. But she had a long time in hospital to think about what she’d do to Aaron if she had him at her mercy.

He snorts. An actual, proper laugh. Haley puts her hands on his cheeks, runs her fingers over his laugh lines. His eyes slip closed. He’s like a big cat lounging in her sun, her theatre club boyfriend under her hands. “Aaron?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m going to take my panties off now.”

His eyes fly open, and they’re molten hot. Haley squeaks as he pulls her to him, lips colliding, teeth and tongue. She holds onto his strong shoulders as he yanks off her underwear, his boxers joining them on the floor, and she’s back in his lap, still kissing him like her life depends on it. He’s hard and heavy and pressing insistently between her thighs; it might have been over a year, but Haley remembers how this goes. She shifts, rocking back a little, and Aaron slides into her as neatly as he always has.

Her gasp is drowned out by his groan. “Jesus,” he grits out, his hands tightening on her hips. “Warn a guy, why don’t you?” But his eyes are bright.

Haley lifts, and grinds down, squeezes her pelvic floor muscles for good measure. Aaron’s throat works as he swallows thickly. “Be gentle with me, honey,” she murmurs, lips brushing his ear. “Like our first time.”

Maybe it’s unfair, but reminding him of their first always got him insanely hot back when they were married; it seems that that much hasn’t changed. Aaron’s breathing changes, and he’s meeting her now thrust for thrust, taking over most of the movement, his biceps tense as he moves her up and down on his cock. All Haley has to do is hold on, hold on and grind her fingers hard against her clit, which of course Aaron loves, his eyes falling to where they’re joined, where she’s working herself into a frenzy, the breaths stuttering out of her lungs and into his mouth. Not kissing, but sharing the same air.

“Haley,” he groans, fucking into her like this might be the last time. “Honey, you close – I’m gonna –”

She’s right there with him. “Now,” she gasps, and Aaron surges up into her, pounding his cock into her pussy, the sparks of orgasm beginning under her fingers. “Now,” she repeats, and throws her head back, writhing on his dick, her nipples hard against his chest. She comes, and keeps coming, spasming around him, her chest on fire, the muscles in her stomach contracting, in pain and alive in spite of it, in that split second of infinite grace.

Aaron comes when she clenches around him. She can feel it, the hot wet spill of him in her, the breathless mutters of ‘oh God oh God’ over and over as he holds her where he wants her. Haley rests her head on his shoulder, feels the tremors running through him, the relax of his body slowly as he comes down.

She slumps onto him, and automatically his arm comes up to hold her safe in place. His breathing is starting to even out a little. “Haley,” he says eventually, and she hums a dreamy acknowledgment, blissed out. “Not that I’m not thrilled this happened, but, uh. It was. Kind of unexpected.”

Haley nods. He is sweaty and smells amazing. She licks him just to be sure, and Aaron twitches. Salt and sweet. “I left because you prioritized your job over Jack and I,” she informs him, but gets right to the next bit so he doesn’t have time to get broody. “I want you back because I love you. And because I don’t think you’ll take me for granted ever again. And because I definitely see how important it is now that you catch the bad guys, and have someone to take care of you when you’re at home.”

She can feel his smile, shy and small, against her skin. “That simple, huh?” he asks wryly. Haley pulls back so she can look into his eyes.

“I’m not ready to be someone’s wife again,” she says gently. “But… I wouldn’t mind if you were my boyfriend.”

His smile this time changes his whole face, erases all the care from it. He looks like that dork who stole her heart. “I’d like that,” he says, honest to the core, and Haley looks away before her eyes start watering.

“We should get dressed,” she says, and Aaron raises an eyebrow. “Your son likes to snuggle in the mornings.” Aaron looks down at their mutual nakedness.

“Ah. Yes, that might be an idea.” He’s blushing, the dear stupid man. Haley kisses him on the cheek. There’s time enough, for everything else.

“Mommy, why are you in bed with Daddy?” Jack asks at an ungodly hour, when the morning light is just beginning to peep through the curtains. Haley groans and throws an arm over her eyes.

“Ask your dad,” she says, and obediently Jack climbs over her (his little knees and elbows managing to get every sore spot she has).

“Daddy. _Daaaddy_.”

“Yeah, buddy?” Aaron’s voice is muffled. He’s probably sprawled on his stomach, exactly the way Jack sleeps.

“Why are you in Mommy’s bed?”

Haley rolls over, and smiles at them both. Aaron, his face smushed into a pillow; Jack, perched expectantly at his side.

“Because I can,” Aaron says, and rearranges them all until he is spooning Haley, and Haley has her baby in her arms. Jack squirms as she kisses all over his face.

“Ew, Mommy!” he complains, and there are worse things to wake up to, Haley knows, yet she can’t imagine better.


End file.
